


Getting Used To It

by InnerCherry



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Family Feels, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 20:35:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3664080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerCherry/pseuds/InnerCherry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raphael has a moment of reflection and some strong coffee with a family friend. </p>
<p>Dedicated to every fan who ever connected with the turtles on any level.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Used To It

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a one-shot inspired by an anonymous posting I came across on tumblr. The anon mentioned how the TMNT bros helped them through a really dark time in their lives, and so I was inspired to write this for any TMNT fan who connected with our turtles on any level. This ones for you guys.

She always makes the coffee too strong.

Raphael sighed and fixed himself a mug of the too-strong smelling joe anyways, because he’s gotten used to that sort of thing. Just like he’s gotten used to there being a fresh pot of the stuff available at all hours in her apartment. That girl was worse than Donnie sometimes, he’d swear it up and down- working on whatever it was that had inspired her until she passed out or had to go to work.

Leaving the kitchen window open for whenever his brothers managed to get here, he wandered through the one bedroom apartment on the edge of Manhattan, by-passing the living room-cum studio-cum office to her cracked doorway. Sipping the bitterly strong drink with a grimace, the red-masked turtle nudged it further open and slipped in, immediately spotting her form where she sat Indian-style on the floor, staring intently at the large canvas across from her. She was wearing a t-shirt that was ripped and frayed and covered in paint, a pair of men’s carpenter jeans belted at the waist, equally worn and stained.

For a moment, he just took in the sight of her. Her face was set in frown, brow furrowed and eyes both unfocused and intense all at once. Then he took another step into the room and made his way to the spot on the floor next to her, still sipping his coffee, deliberately letting his steps make the lightest of sounds. She spoke as he sat down, unsurprised at his presence.

“How was patrol tonight?” He glances at her paint-smeared face and snorts.

“S’alright.  Things were pretty calm ‘til Mikey ran into a Purple Dragon meeting.” A wry grin makes its way onto her face, though she doesn’t take her eyes off the canvas.

“Bet things got real fun after that.”

“Oh yeah,” he chuckles, “you could say that.” She laughs a little, quietly, but doesn’t say anything else, so he finally turns to look at tonight’s masterpiece.

It takes him a minute to work it out. There are no solid lines defining the falling figure. Instead its deliberately blurred as shadows suck the figure down, even as it reaches out to the blue, red, purple, orange and yellow swirls that strike out at the darkest part of the shadows, banishing them from the figure and trying to suspend their fall. It’s a mix of hope and darkness, and the longer Raphael stares at it, the more he feels a tightness in his chest. He takes another sip of his coffee and wonders what he should say.

Because he knows what this painting shows. He’s been there, in that pit of darkness, though his had always been tinged red with his anger and pure frustration. Not having anyone around to understand what you're feeling, and, worse, not being able to try and explain it so they might understand. For him, it was anger. For her, it was depression and anxiety, a fear of not living up to expectations. Most of the time she was confident and bright, Mikey’s female counterpart with Donny’s smarts, Leo’s dependability, and his own sarcasm and wit.

But sometimes she fell apart. He knew, sometimes, that she felt incredibly unworthy and useless. She carried big dreams in her head, but when it all hit her she’d be trying not to crumble under the weight of them. She’d told him once that it felt like a crushing weight on her chest, like claustrophobia or suffocation.

He knew she hated herself for those times. That every time she started to fall apart she fought against it, that she thought herself weak for not being able to handle things ‘like an adult,’ as she’d say. Those were her most vulnerable moments, her weakest moments, and he, of all people and turtles alike, knew what it felt like to hate yourself for showing weakness, even to the people you trusted most.

Personally, Raph- and his brothers, too- thought she was too hard on herself. She was, after all, only human. And everyone fell down sometimes.

Her paintings were her vents. They put everything out into space that she could not make herself say, and sometimes they were depressing, or angry, or sad. Today’s painting though, he thought, was happier. There was a certain determination about the falling figure and the way their reaching hand was so close grasping the light.

He looked at her out of the corners of his eyes and took in her slightly spasming hands, and the nervous but resolved glint in her eyes. He took another sip of his coffee, and waited.

“You-” she let out a quiet huff and squared her shoulders, still looking at her painting. “You guys make things better for me. Before I met ya’ll, I- you know I had a lot of difficulties. Things are still difficult, but you guys have made them a lot better. So- thank you.” She finally turned to face him, and the embarrassed smile on her face had him wanting to grasp her hand.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you guys, but I just want you to know how much I appreciate you all.” Raph swallowed, throat suddenly dry in the face of her gratitude, opening his mouth without even knowing what he was going to say-

“Awwwww!” Both of them jerked in surprise, and then Mikey was there, knocking her to the floor in a hug. The orange-masked turtle sniffled a little and rubbed his cheek against hers like a cat. “You’re so welcome, girl! Mikey’s here for you anytime you need the love~!”

Donnie was trotting over next, coffee in hand, Leo slowly following behind him. While Donnie tried to pry off their baby bro, alternately chastising him and fussing over their friend, Leo knelt down in front of her. He took her hand in one of his, smiling his I’ll-take-care-of-you smile that all the turtles were familiar with.

“You know you don’t have to thank us,” he said. She sniffed and glanced at the three around her, Leo holding her hand, Donnie’s arm slung lovingly around her shoulder, and Mikey now clinging to her waist. Raph rolled his eyes and scooched closer to muss her already messy hair. She looked at him, and he leaned over to gently touch his forehead to hers, his large hand cradling the back of her head as he kept eye contact with her.

“That’s what family’s for, kid.” Then he leaned back to take in her bright smile entirely, listening to her happy laughter, and letting his brothers take over the conversation for a bit. He was content to sit back and watch while he finished the too-strong coffee cooling in his mug. After all, genuinely happy moments like these were something he’d gotten used to, too.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
